


...And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

by scarecrow_horses



Series: Ficathons and Challenges [8]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrow_horses/pseuds/scarecrow_horses
Summary: 'Amends' ends...a little differently for some.
Relationships: Xander Harris/Spike
Series: Ficathons and Challenges [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2072577
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	...And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

**Author's Note:**

> A little Xmas for you! Takes place during 'Amends' (season 3, episode 10). A little 'this is the start of a wonderful friendship' kind of vibe, with a little light snogging. :D
> 
> Originally written for The Attic [Twelve Days of Spander](http://www.excessant.com/fiction/12dofs/12dofs.htm).

.

.  
_Jesus it's cold! Why am I so cold?_ Xander scrunched himself down further into his sleeping bag, pulling the flap over his face.а It was _freezing_ , and his face was wet...was it _raining_? _Oh man, don't let it be **raining**._ He pushed the sleeping bag back off of his face and blinked, then _stared_. It was....

"Snow. It's _snowing_?"

"S'fuckin' crazy, innit?" The slurring voice jolted him fully awake, and Xander sat up like a Jack-in-the-box, staring around wildly. There on the back-porch steps - not three _feet_ from his little camp, was -

" _Spike!_ " Xander squeaked.

"Know you?" Spike squinted at him, one of Xander's Christmas cookies halfway to his mouth.

"Yes. No! Kind of? Hey! Those are _my_ cookies!" Xander snatched the plate off the ground and held it protectively in his arms, and the vampire snorted and shoved his whole cookie into his mouth. 

"So?" Spike asked, lifting an eyebrow and Xander glared at him.

_My_ gingerbread man! Oh, hell. That's **Spike**. I guess I'd rather he ate **cookies**.... 

"So...ummmm...maybe you should ask first?" Xander put the plate down on the sleeping bag and pushed it down towards his feet - snatched his hand back as if he were feeding a wild animal at the zoo. 

Spike snorted in amusement and picked up a Christmas tree - bit it in half. "These're awful.а Taste like...chemicals," he grumbled, and Xander scowled at him.

"Yeah, well, they're all I could afford. You don't _have_ to eat them. _Why_ are you eating them? Why is it _snowing_?" The flakes were falling thick and fast, now, and the shoulders of Xander's baseball tee were getting wet. The sky was strange, too - a kind of pale pewter color.

_Wonder what's going on? What time is it?_

"Suspect it's some sort of Hellmouth - thing," Spike said, licking crumbs off his fingers.

"What?" Xander snapped his gaze away from _red, red lips, red tongue, white fingers, candy cane...damn..._

"The _snow_. Are you daft? Or maybe deaf?" Spike reached into a pocket of his long black coat, and pulled out a half-empty bottle of whiskey - took a long drink. "S'prolly Angel's fault, innit?" he mumbled, and Xander pricked up his ears.

"Why would you say that? Not that it would surprise me; I mean - something weird? Angel's probably in the thick of it."

"Yeah," Spike agreed. He sat forward suddenly, staring at Xander. Xander recoiled, groping for the stake that he'd put under his pillow. " _I_ know you! You're him! The..." Spike snapped his fingers. "The hors d'oeuvres!"

"The _what_?"

"The little snack Angelus offered me at the school." Spike leaned ever further forward, the bottle dangling from his fingers. "You were cute, bein' all - smart-alec-y to the poof."

"I'm not cute!" Xander picked his pillow up in frustration and shook it, and Spike chuckled.

"Lookin' for this?" he asked. Xander stared in dismay at the stake Spike held up. "An' you _were_ cute.а _Are_ cute. Big brown eyes...eyes like my Dru...." Abruptly, Spike took a huge drink and slumped back on the steps, the stake disappearing into a pocket. "Oh, Dru...." he sighed.

Xander looked around nervously. "So - umm...so where _is_ Dru?" Spike shot him an evil look and Xander hastily corrected himself. "I mean - I mean, your lady-friend!а Is she... _around_?"

"Not that it's any of _your_ business, but no, she's _not_ ," Spike snarled. He stared moodily at the bottle, and then finished the last of the alcohol on one gulp. He tossed it over his shoulder; it landed with incredible accuracy in the big plastic garbage can full of other empty bottles and cans beside the back door. Xander winced as the bottle crashed into the others and shattered. Spike jerked around, startled, and when he turned back he was grinning.

"You havin' a party, then? That why you're out here in the snow? Too rat-arsed to get home? Or no, no - wait!" Spike scooted eagerly closer along the stairs, and Xander leaned warily back. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Hayward got three sheets to the wind, an' ended up shaggin' in your bed, and now you can't wake 'em up!"

"Uhhhh...no. I mean - I don't think so? I don't _have_ an Aunt Petunia, thank God, and I don't think Aunt Maureen and Uncle Hank actually _have_ sex anymore -" Xander took in Spike's amused expression and snapped his mouth shut, angry. "It's none of your damn business, anyway."

"Isn't it?" Spike was suddenly right _there_ , crouching in the snow and right in Xander's face, fist snagging a handful of his shirt, yanking him close. Xander gasped and tried to wrench away.

"Lemme go!"

"No, I don't think so…. Hrmm...." Spike suddenly sounded scarily, completely sober, and Xander wished he wasn't trapped in his sleeping bag, ten feet from the safety of his house. Spike poked at Xander's stack of magazines, patted the camp-light that burned blue-white. "You've got a light, an' readin' material, such as it is...supplies...." Spike tilted the plate of cookies, which were getting soggy. "Know what I think? _I_ think...you've got a houseful of fuckin' drunks in there, and your precious Slayer an' witch an' warlock don't give a fuck that you're out here in the dark...with all the monsters." Spike's voice had dropped to a purr, and his breath was cool, smoky, whiskey-sharp. 

Xander stared at him - at the too-blue eyes inches from his own. "That's - that's not - t-true, they -"

"Yes it is, manling," Spike said, and he _smiled_. "It's true. Do they know, your little pack of white-hats? Or do you hide it from them? Like you hide...other things...." Spike's gaze was slipping  
over him, slick and shivery like a snake, and Xander pulled futilely at the fist holding his shirt - stopped with the smooth, cold knuckles under his fingers.

"I don't...know what you're talking about," he managed to gasp out, and Spike did this little grin - cat-sly and showing a bit of tooth. And then he leaned forward and kissed Xander.

 _Oh. Wow. He's...that's a really nice…. Tooth! Sharp tooth! Ahh - oh God!_ Xander jerked away, licking the spot on his lip where a fang had pricked him, and Spike's face shivered back to human.

"Yes you _do_ , sweet. You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about." Spike let go of Xander's shirt and sat down on the edge of the sleeping bag, fussily lifting his coat-tails out of the snow, almost squashing Xander's legs. Then he just slumped there, looking a bit downcast. Xander hastily drew his legs up, Indian-style. His lips tingled faintly, and he rubbed at the circle of wrinkles in the front of his shirt. And shivered. The shoulders and back were damp, now, and his hair was dripping a bit, and he was starting to feel….

 _Pretty fuckin' miserable, here. Damnit. Demon-magnet, for sure. And what the hell is he doing here, anyway? Without Drusilla? And - what **time** is it? It feels...really early. _ Xander reached over and picked up his little radio, and turned it on, fiddling with the tuner. After a moment, music spilled out, slightly tinny. _'Oh Holy Night'_ , and Xander put the radio down in his lap.

"What'd you turn _that_ noise on for?" Spike mumbled, and Xander chewed his lip for a moment. He wasn't sure he wanted to have anymore 'conversation' with the evil undead.

 _Oh, hell, why not? Who the hell else am I gonna talk to? He's right…Willow's always known about me sleeping out...and Buffy found out yesterday, thankyouverymuch Cordy…. And neither one of them...._ "I wanna know what time it is. It's hard to tell with all the clouds."

"Oh." Spike looked up, squinting, as the wet, heavy flakes fell into his face. "It's past dawn, actually...Christmas Day." They sat in silence for a moment and then Spike started talking again - _reciting_ something.

" _This was the moment when Before_  
_Turned into After, and the future's_  
_Uninvented timekeepers presented arms_."

Xander stared at the vampire. "What was... _that_?"

Spike -who was still looking up at the sky - jerked a little and looked over at Xander, his eyes dark and tired looking. "It was a _poem_. By a very interesting woman." 

"Oh. It was...kinda cool. And wow, past dawn? And you're not all - with the flames. I bet that's really - cool…."

_And **why** do I care? He's evil! Even if does kiss better than Cordy...._

Spike gave him an odd look, and shrugged. "Oh, yeah, cool. Dru'd love it, she would…." Spike sighed, a long, rattling kind of sigh, and Xander just stared at him for a minute.

_Okay. That was the 'oh, I'm so sad, please ask me what's wrong' sigh. And...I can't believe this but...I'm gonna ask. It's the snow - the cold. I'm in hypothermic shock. And I only had leftover pizza for Christmas dinner, so my blood sugar is low. And...he just quoted **poetry**! I have to ask._

"All right, all right - _tell_ me already!"

"Tell you what?" Spike's look of wide-eyed innocence was so completely fake that Xander actually burst out laughing. Then he hugged himself, rubbing his hands up and down his arms.

" _Damn_ it's cold. Tell me why you're all _'woe is me'_ , and with the drinking and stuff. And why no - Drusilla." 

For a moment Spike just stared at him, and then his face flashed from human to demon to human, so fast Xander didn't have time to blink. "Not your -"

"Business? Yeah, you already said that. But so did _I_ , and it didn't seem to stop you. I'll tell you why I'm out here, if you'll tell me why _you_ are." The song on the radio switched to ' _The Little Drummer Boy_ ' as sung by Bing Crosby and David Bowie, and Spike snarled at the radio for a second, and then looked down at his lap and sighed again.

"Yeah, all right. Well, you know - made that deal with the Slayer, didn't I? I helped her stop Angelus getting' the world sucked into Hell, and she didn't try an' stop me from leavin' with Dru. And it worked out just _fine_! Me and Dru, we went down to Brazil, got us a little villa right outside of Rio…." Spike smiled, a wide, happy smile that wasn't even _remotely_...evil.

"But then she keeps tellin' me I'm not - _demon_ enough for her! That makin' a deal with the Slayer made me _weak_!" Spike _growled_ , and Xander hugged himself a little closer, wishing he had a jacket. "M'not soddin' _weak_! It was all for _her_! But she can't see that - can't see me for…." 

Spike stopped and looked away - turned his face up at the sky for a moment, his eyes shut. "Dru'd love this, really. She always liked snow; said it was like stars falling down, all around us. She loved Prague...." 

Xander watched as Spike opened his eyes and stared at the falling snow, then slowly brought his gaze down to earth again. He held his arm out - close to Xander's face. "See there? Look. She could look at the flakes for hours." Spike leaned close to his arm, and after a moment Xander did, too, until their heads were nearly touching. The snow landed on the chilled black leather, and it didn't melt, and after a moment Xander could see individual snowflakes. They were....

" _Wow_ ," Xander breathed, entranced. "They really _are_ all - different. I mean - look! That one's like...." He couldn't describe what he was seeing; he'd never _seen_ snow, and it was...amazing. He looked up at Spike, smiling, and Spike smiled back, and for a moment they were just... _there_. Then Spike slowly sat back, and reached into his coat-pocket. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and lit up, blowing a stream of smoke up into the sky. It was thick, in the colder air, like dragon-smoke. Xander watched it swirl away through the flakes.

"So why'd you come back _here_?" Xander asked, and Spike smoked for a moment more in silence.

"Wanted revenge, didn't I? Angelus, he got her all twisted up. Turned her against me. _That's_ why she's mad at me. An' - an' I thought, 'well, I'll just get me my third Slayer while I'm at it', bring her back a Slayer's heart, kind of thing. Token of my affections. But\ now…." Spike shook his head slowly, finishing the cigarette. He ground it out against the side of the porch, and tossed the butt over his shoulder, in the general direction of the bottle he'd tossed earlier. 

"Now?" Xander asked softly. He could see tiny flakes on Spike eyelashes - sugaring his hair and catching in his eyebrows. Making him sparkle in the strange blue-grey light.

"I dunno. I've been away for a bit, an'...it just doesn't seem so important, now. Been with Dru...over a hundred years. Never _once_ thought I'd...." Spike sighed, and shoved his hands into his pockets - huddled a little, as if finally feeling the cold. "I just...I guess I'm just gonna go walkabout for a bit. I'm not - ready to go back. And Angelus, the brooding git...he's not worth it." 

They both sat there in silence for a while, and Xander realized his teeth were chattering. The radio was playing _'Jingle-Bell Rock'_ , and it was suddenly - depressing. The whole _thing_ was depressing, and Xander looked down at his sleeping bag; at the sodden cookies and his _Starlog_ and _X-Men_ that were slowly turning to mush.

_God, I hate this. Hate that nobody cared enough to invite me over, so I wouldn't have to sleep in my **yard** in the middle of the Hellmouth. Hate that my parents don't care that I wasn't even home for Christmas. Hate how Buffy looks at Angel, and how Willow looks at Oz, and how Cordelia **doesn't** look at me anymore. Hate hiding...everything...so I won't upset anybody._

He felt his eyes starting to sting a little, and he blinked furiously, willing the tears away. Cold fingers ghosted over his hair, and then Spike was lifting his chin up, leaning close again; a curious, soft look on his face.

"You're 'bout frozen solid, pet. I've got a room over at the Sunnydale Inn; they've got a hot-tub."

Xander stared at him and then laughed softly, sniffling.

_God. Demon-magnet. Pretty demon...._

"I didn't tell you my story yet," Xander said slowly.

Spike unfolded like a black-leather crane, stretching his chin up a little and squaring his shoulders. "Tell me on the way, yeah?" He held his hand out, and after a long moment, Xander reached up and took it. Let Spike pull him to his feet. The radio and the cookies tumbled to the ground, and Xander shoved his feet into his sneakers, grimacing at the chilly dampness inside.

"Boxing Day, tomorrow. Supposed to have a party - get presents. Bet we could find something fun at the Mall," Spike said, and he slung his arm around Xander's shoulders.

"Boxing Day? Is there fighting? Oh! This is my favorite song!" As they walked away, the radio played on, and Xander sang along, nudging Spike until he joined in.

_"On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me_  
_A partridge in a pear tree...."_

**Author's Note:**

>  _BC - AD_ by Ursula A. Fanthorpe
> 
>   
> _This was the moment when Before_  
>  _Turned into After, and the future's_  
>  _Uninvented timekeepers presented arms._
> 
> _This was the moment when nothing_  
>  _Happened. Only dull peace_ <  
>  _Sprawled boringly over the earth._
> 
> _This was the moment when even energetic Romans_  
>  _Could find nothing better to do_  
>  _Than counting heads in remote provinces._
> 
> _And this was the moment_  
>  _When a few farm workers and three_  
>  _Members of an obscure Persian sect._  
>  _Walked haphazard by starlight straight_  
>  _Into the kingdom of heaven._


End file.
